Checkmarks
by SamCole
Summary: Dean thought it was just sex, Sam fell in love. What happens when it becomes too much and Sam tells Dean how he really feels? Not part of my "Uneasy Hearts Weigh The Most" series. One-shot. Dean/Sam and angst
1. Checkmarks

_**Author's Note: Have a little one shot (maybe?) for your amusement, something that was birthed from lack of sleep and having a song stuck in my head…and let's not forget my mindless love for these boys. Inspired by the song "**__**Checkmarks"**__** by The Academy Is…**_

_**Warnings: Angst, mentions of smut, slash of the Sam and Dean variety.**_

_**Summary: It never meant anything to Dean but it meant so much to Sam. So what happens when the shit hits the fan and Sam tells Dean about how he feels, knowing Dean doesn't feel the same. Things change and no amount of apologies can fix what Sam's become.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own them, wish I did.**_

_**Checkmarks**_

Dean honestly never meant for things to turn out this way. To him, it was just sex, just a way to fill the emptiness that was his life ever since his dad sacrificed himself to save Dean. Sam knew this but that didn't stop him from feeling, didn't stop him from falling in love with his brother.

It was the ultimate taboo but anyone with eyes must've seen it coming. You keep two people together long enough and someone's views on love were bound to change. All Sam had ever known was Dean, all he had ever trusted and felt safe with…everything that defined Sam Winchester revolved around one other person.

Dean.

So when Dean came home one night, just on that side of tipsy but not quite drunk and pushed Sam down on the bed, Sam didn't fight it. Actually, if he remembered correctly he begged for Dean as the man ravished every inch of his body, putting his sinful mouth to good use.

Sam realizes now that he should have pushed Dean away. Sam had been in love with his brother the second he knew what love was and he knew that Dean wouldn't ever feel the same. At the time it seemed like a good idea, Sam would submerge himself in the affections of his brother and wake up alone in the bed the next morning, Dean already in the shower or out to get breakfast. They never talked about it but it happened again and again.

It was wrong; God Sam knew it was wrong. Dean was using Sam like he used every other person he picked up at bars, Sam was nothing more than a hunting partner and a series of random sexual intercourses lined up in a row, almost like one night stands that kept recurring like a severe case of déjà vu.

But then it started to hurt. The ache deep in Sam's chest when Dean would bring home easy girls and screw them in the same bed he screwed Sam in the night before. Sam pretended it didn't bother him though. He always put on a brave face, took a deep breath and smiled when he re-entered the room the next morning.

Then, one night, everything reached it's limit within Sam Winchester. The younger of the two lost his cool when he walked in on his brother in an intense make-out session with a busty blonde girl Dean had no doubt picked up at a bar while Sam busted his ass doing research on a case. He had even picked up burgers for himself and his brother at a local burger joint.

But when he entered the room he felt it snap. That invisible thread that held together his sanity gave way to the tidal wave of emotions that had been threatening to over-take him for months now.

"That's, it!" Sam screamed and slammed his food down on the table. The girl, whatever her name was, pulled away from Dean like he'd suddenly developed AIDS.

"I should go," she said and scampered out the door, muttering an apology to Sam as she passed.

"What the fuck Sam?" Dean growled and stood, glaring at his little brother.

"Oh hut up, Dean! I am so sick of this!" Sam roared, anger and underlying hints of emotional turmoil leaking through his voice.

"What are you talking about man? What's your problem?"

"What's my problem? What's my problem! You wanna _know _what my _problem_ is Dean?"

Dean took a half-step back, never having seen so much rage in his little brother, especially not directed at him. "Yeah…?" Dean ventured.

"My _problem_ is you! The way you grin, the way you laugh, the way you fuck me, the way you can turn around and fuck someone else! My problem is we've had sex dozens of times and you think it doesn't mean anything! You never bothered to ask me how I felt! You never thought, for one second, that maybe I left you fuck me till I can't sit because I'm hopelessly in love with you! I" Sam couldn't stop the words from pouring out, just as he couldn't stop the tears from blurring his vision. He wiped his eyes furiously and saw Dean's stunned expression.

"Sam….I-" Dean began, but am cut him off, holding up a hand.

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I love you' I really don't want to hear it."

With that Sam turned and walked out of the hotel, ignoring Dean as he called Sam back, his voice falling on deaf ears.

Sam was done.

He'd been filled with it for too long and he just couldn't do it anymore.

He left Dean and he didn't look back.

_**End?**_


	2. The Worst Hangover Ever

_**Author's Note: Hello readers, sorry for taking so long on this, but back by popular demand is the sequel o "Checkmarks". Thanks so much to my new beta, SoulfulSam, for the feedback and help! Reviews are crack, give me my fix! :D**_

_**The Worst Hangover Ever**_

Sam groaned in pain as he awoke a sharp throbbing in his head seemingly right behind his eyes and made it impossible to think straight. He rolled over and came face to face with a stunning bleach blonde passed out beside him, his faux white-blonde hair half sticking up in a million angles, half matted to his face with sweat. The room itself was dark, something Sam would have been thankful for if it wasn't for the massive hangover he was currently threatening to make him vomit. Other than that, it was bland; a bed, dark-colored walls, a closet and a door. The only thing that gave away the events of last night was the musky scent of sex and a harsher scent of booze.

Sam slid out of bed and stumbled about, pulling on articles of clothing that belonged to him before slipping outside and to his car, which was parked at the end of the boy's driveway. The keys that were safe within his pocket were then withdrawn so he could enter his car and leave, heading for the nearest diner.

"Rough night?" The waitress with curly auburn-red hair and shocking blue eyes asked softly as she seated Sam, her southern accent making her seem sweet and homey.

"You have no idea," Sam muttered in response.

"You want a menu or just some coffee?"

Sam's stomach lurched at the thought of food. "Just coffee," he grumbled and buried his face in his hands, the scents of food, people and crisp autumn air stinging his nose and worsening his headache. He should have bought a coffee maker forever ago; it would save him a lot of trips to the local diners and made his cramped apartment look a little more homey, maybe even more lived in.

"Here's your coffee, sugar," the waitress said and set the steaming mug of dark liquid before the hung-over male.

Sam looked up and saw that her employee tag, the name reading "Ashleigh" in black letters against a red background. "Thanks Ashleigh," he muttered and began sipping the scalding liquid, damn near willing the strong black coffee to clear his head.

"Sam?"

Sam's heart stopped instantly, his blood turned to ice, and he prayed to whatever deity would listen that the owner of that perfectly-familiar voice was not who he thought it was.

"Sammy?"

Sam looked up and met the eyes of his brother, his ex-lover whom he had not seen in over nine long months. Dean looked like he always did; tired. His eyes bore the clear signs of exhaustion: faint purple bags and a slight glaze that meant the eldest Winchester boy just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Dean…" was the only response that Sam could summon as his mind had gone totally blank.

Dean took a seat across from his younger brother, pleasant surprise written across his face with the undertones on concern. "How've you been, Sam?"

Sam shrugged and looked back at his coffee for several moments before actually taking a big gulp to finish the rest of the bitter liquid before returning the still-warm mug to the table. "I've been fine," he grunted in response, old resentment as well as hurt resurfacing more and more by the second.

Dean's lips turned downward in a faint frown, one of many facial expressions that were permanently engraved in Sam's memory despite the fact he'd tried hard to forget them.

"Is that a hickey on your neck?" Dean asked suddenly, the surprise in his voice both amusing and enraging Sam.

"So what if it is?" He spat back defensively. He was insulted. What, did Dean think Sam would sit around forever and just miss his brother all the time? Well he was wrong, very fucking wrong. Sam didn't miss Dean's kisses, he didn't miss the way Dean would moan his name as he came, filling Sam up, he didn't miss the way Dean's unique smell, a mixture of car oil, leather and a musk, would wake him every morning. He didn't miss Dean's laugh or smile and he definitely didn't miss the tender moments they used to share. After all, Sam was just an easy lay to Dean when Dean was so much more to him and Dean had broken his heart. Why would Sam miss that?

"Sammy, you there?"

Dean's voice drew Sam out of his thoughts, his gaze returning to his brother once more. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you'd help me out with a hunt." Dean asked, feeling concerned but trying to hide it. If he wasn't scared Sam would punch him in the face, he would have told his baby brother that he looked like shit. He'd lost a lot of weight and looked like he lived in the dark, his once sun-kissed skin now somewhere between slightly-pale and pasty, not to mention how he was acting.

"Dean, I stopped hunting a month after I left you," Sam wearily responded. The anger had melted away, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

Dean frowned faintly but pushed on, determined. "Well, it's not like you ever really forget. Come on man, just help me with some research, let me borrow your laptop. Please?"

Sam sighed and wished he could tell Dean 'no' but, alas, he had never been able to do that; after all, it was what got him into his current mess in the first place. "Fine," Sam agreed reluctantly before laying a five on the table and heading out to his car, head still throbbing but not as badly as it was prior to his coffee. Dean followed in his little brother's wake.


End file.
